Bad Blood
by vodkaeyeball
Summary: Where the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and five nations try to live with a bond of blood without spilling it in the process.


_7.3.10_

* * *

"If he doesn't show up." Norway muttered under his breath, flipping through a shitty airline magazine while the perky air hostess rattles off the emergency exits at various ends of the plane.

Infrequent or first time flyers are listening to the woman's words of instruction like this is vital life or death information, and hoping the probability that this will save their lives is higher than it being of no use in the event of a plane accident. The veteran passengers on the other hand, sit through the speech with as much interest and enthusiasm as if they were watching advertisements on television.

Flyers like Norway have heard it too many times to bat an eyelash at the woman's gestures and reminders. Flipping through the pages scanning the clusters of Danish words too quickly to actually make any sense of them, Norway wondered absentmindedly how many languages he could recite this useless safety speech in.

"He'll show up." The relaxed man sitting next to him said with reassuring confidence.

Norway sighed, peering at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Well if he doesn't," Norway snapped the magazine shut and throws it on the floor under his feet, "I'll have his head."

"I have no doubt you would!" He laughed, "But come on. Seriously, he has to. He will."

"Mm."

"Fin told me Sverige had a _really_ long chat with him last Friday. He said he was gonna go, he swore on his ugly ass bird." Denmark continued, "Well. Not his exact words but you see what I mean, Nor. He's going to go. He bought the tickets for the flight over, It's not a long flight either. It's not like he's gonna let the money go to waste, seeing how tight he is for cash right now."

"Hang on, why did he have a long chat with Sverige and not _me_, his _brother_?" Norway growled, quiet enough so that the air hostess doesn't hear him talking over her and come over to tell him off like last time him and Denmark got in a heated discussion. "Sverige is a brother, but not of _blood_, like me. He should be having long chats with me and not giving me one word answers and hanging up before the conversation's even finished-"

"Maybe because you nag him to death-"

"_Nag him to death_?" Norway raised his voice above the Dane's rude interruption and received a sharp shushing from the woman seated behind him. Norway almost looks like he's about to turn around and bite her head off, but luckily this time he sighs angrily and lets it go for now.

The flight resulted in Norway wanting to pull his teeth out.

The few hours of idle waiting made Norway's mind travel from one thing to another. He thought about a lot of things, gazing out of the window over the green pastures below them, about the world conference, his young brother, and work. Norway thought of home. He missed his tiny cottage by the lakeside hidden under trees, away from the city, the scent of the brewing coffee and morning frost as he woke, how nice it was to spend hour after hour in his bed, drowsy under the thick warm covers, slipping in and out of sleep as the fireplace crackled quietly in the background. As of late, he just didn't have the time to enjoy the days spend being idle. Managing his workload, the stress, and his boss's demands and meetings made the spare days of nothingness and doing nothing productive became less frequent. He managed to balance the work load without suffocating under the pressure after years of getting used to it, and did get some free time and holidays, but he didn't get as much relaxation as he did before, knowing that after spending too long sleeping in and avoiding work that there were phone calls, paperwork and meetings to organize waiting for him made it more troublesome than relaxing. He didn't complain about it like he could. Most nations had to deal with it. It was how it was.

After just under three hours of boring magazines, pointless conversation, and staring out the window, the duo arrived in London, just a few hours prior to their meeting.

"That was awful." Norway said, tapping his foot as they stood waiting for their luggage to come across the conveyer belt.

"Could've taken a train."

Norway shrugged. "Planes take less time."

"Yeah, but the scenery!" Denmark exclaimed.

"I don't have time for scenery. There's scenery at_ home_, Den."

"Buzz kill." Denmark said as Norway hauled his luggage off the belt and expanded the handle.

The two started walking at a slow pace, the airport bustling with life all around them, running passengers late for flights, embracing couples, screaming infants.

Norway, being a fast walker, always wanted to get to the destination as soon as possible, and Denmark, a 'loiterer' as his family put it, constantly was dawdling around, pausing for brief moments of watching his surroundings, taking in his environments. Denmark enjoyed bustling cities and quiet country sides. He took pleasure in the settings and got enjoyment out of even seemingly crowded situations. Because of the conflicting personalities of the two, and the fact they always seemed to end up together, Denmark and Norway fell into a way of adjusting their habits to meet the other's. Over the years, Norway was able to notice when Den was falling behind, a slow down ever so slightly to meet him. Denmark would catch himself daydreaming, staring off into the mountain line in the distance, and remind himself to pick up the pace. It was something they'd grown into that they never noticed, even when others did.

Finland once called it adorable, Norway of course denied it, and almost smacked him for it if it weren't for his six foot looming boyfriend.

Denmark sniffed the spring air as they stepped outside. It wasn't a pleasant smell, oil and tires, being a result of the sea of cars ducking and diving out of exits, beeping angrily and impatiently. Norway tried to wave down a taxi and get out of it as soon as he possibly could. A taxi pulled in beside them without much wait and the two Scandinavians pilled in their suitcases, crammed inside the small backseat, and promptly stated the address of their hotel.

"When's Iceland's flight going to land?" Norway checked his phone, it was only ten o'clock, they'd left Copenhagen early for their flight, caffeinated drinks driving them through the morning since they'd spent the night before talking for longer than they had anticipated on Denmark's leather sitting set, chatting about nothing in particular. Denmark never ran out of things to talk about so it was easier to listen to him chatter on than partake in the conversation. They both fell asleep half through finishing their beers, Denmark sprawled on the sofa and Norway huddled in the recliner.

It pissed him off realizing it was so early. If he were at home right now, he could be asleep, not in a stupid taxi with a growing headache.

"Um." Denmark said smartly, "By what Sverige told me, he already did, a few hours ago I think."

"He's with Sweden?"

"Nope. Well, I mean I don't think so? I told him to text or ring me or something when he saw Ice, and by the looks of it he hasn't. Sverige was on the phone with him when Ice bought the ticket two or three weeks back and he said when the plane would be here."

"If his plane has already landed and Sverige hasn't seen him, where is he?"

"I dunno."

"I told you he wouldn't come." Norway groaned.

"I didn't say that he wasn't here." Denmark said, exasperated, "I mean come on Nor, Ice is just a kid he could of gotten it wrong and showed up to the wrong hotel and-"

"We were all emailed the address weeks ago." He interrupted.

"He could have gone off before the meeting started to go sightseeing or something?"

"Iceland? Our Iceland?" Norway almost laughed at him. "He hates England, the person _and_ the landmass. He never was able to stand it here, you know that. He's said it a thousand times. Since that Cod War thing he's been sour as hell."

"Oh come on, he doesn't hate England _that_ much."

"He told us the air here smells like _cheaters_ and _criminals_. I'd say he's pretty pissy about it still."

"That boy sure does know how to hold a grudge doesn't he?" Denmark laughed to ease the tension that gathered in the back of the taxi without him noticing, taking a moment to stop fiddling with his tie to crack open the window and let the London air in to hopefully clear both of their heads.

"Mm." He nodded, "He hasn't been able to turn his back to you since you poured ice cold water down the back of his shirt Christmas 2002."

"Jeez, Nor I said I was sorry fourteen times at least, I swear."

Norway looked at him, snorted and looked away.

"It was funny." Denmark smiled.

"Not."

"At the time."

"No."

"You had to be there."

"_I was_."

"Get off my back _brother_."

"Sure, bro." Norway exhaled while crossing his arms and turning away, he did it half annoyed, half jokingly, staring once again out of the window. His eyes scanned over the crowded streets absent-mindedly; there were constant clusters of moving people, barely seen over their umbrellas and heavy raincoats. It had rained heavily hours before, and although the weather was seemingly clear for now, it would undoubtedly turn to showers over the city again soon. He checked the time again, and several more times before they arrived at the front of the huge multistory hotel.

The building was higher end, furnished well, with a nice elegant paint job; it was pretty esthetically pleasing, at least compared to some hotels the meetings have been held at in the past. Usually, the event was planned that every person attending would stay at the same hotel that the conference would take place, and everything would run smoothly and to plan, but as always with events where hundreds of people (_nations,_ rather), with conflicting personalities, constant disagreements between those who never got along, and the usual hiccups in planning, issues would occur. Amazingly, there hasn't been a fist fight in a while, nearly six years, but those only happened when it got really heated. It was the Nations with war, land, or financial problems at the time that got into fights like that. It was a result of tensions rising to the brim. Precautions were made to avoid these sorts of things. Those known to bicker or raise hell when together at meetings were separated, with rooms and seating at opposite ends so that they would be as far apart as possible.

Norway himself never got into fights. Nothing serious that resulted in getting in trouble with anyone. He had shouted at rude people, or if he were in a particularly bad mood, having a rotten day, or if someone just decided not to hold the elevator for him.

Tension was obviously high around groups of individuals when everyone had history with everyone else. Most had a bone to pick with at least one other nation seated in the conference room. The meetings just required them to ignore prejudices, keep a civil tongue, and remain calm for a couple of days.

Denmark was fine most of the time as well, he could keep his head level in tight situations, which Ice said he sometimes envied.

Denmark would only respond with violence or hostility if any of three things occurred; large consumption of alcohol (he was known as a loud, obnoxious drunk anyway. Provoking and winning fights were his forte), he was feeling threatened, or most of all, someone was threatening his family. Back in his Viking days, when everyone was much younger, he wouldn't have hesitated to chop off a man's head if he laid a finger on any of his brothers. Norway wouldn't be too surprised if he'd do the same now if one of them were in danger. Luckily, his prized centuries old axe was polished and locked safely in its bulletproof case on display in Denmark's mansion in Copenhagen.

The only reason Norway kept out of trouble in these events was he kept to himself as much as he could. If confrontation could be avoided, he did. But he worried about his brother. Iceland was young, hot headed, and easily wound up if you knew how to do it. He would have been involved in more arguments if it weren't for the fact he was shy around people he didn't know too well, awkwardness stemming from the confusing adolescent stage of his life. At times, he was sociable, and others, isolated. Norway found it difficult to understand his younger brother, or how to treat him; like a man or a child.

Lately, it had been a task all in it's on to get him to attend meetings. They were important, but not vital, everyone knew that. It was usually fine if someone didn't attend, it had been a long, long time ago when every single nation was present, but it was polite to try to get to every meeting they could. Iceland was known to be there, all the Scandinavian countries did together, talking amongst themselves, sitting together, catching up after the conference was over then parting their separate ways, but recently, Iceland didn't appear. Afterwards, Norway would call, and Ice would shrug it off. He had paperwork to do. He was tired. He had a meeting with his boss. He was sick from his recent financial issues and couldn't make it. The list went on, and over time, Norway got more and more agitated with the excuses. Iceland was an aloof teenager and uncaring to his brother's nagging for him to attend. He swore he'd make the next meeting, then bail. Again.

"Can you see him?" Norway ducked his head out of the taxi and scanned the crowd.

"Patience, young grasshopper." Denmark said still pulling out his luggage and paying the driver, trying to work out which paper bills to give, wallet filled to the brim with different country from past travels. "He'll be inside. He's not one to hang around outside by himself."

Norway grabbed his suitcase started walking speedily towards the steps and Denmark almost yelled out for him to chill out for a second, but Norway's concentrated expression, or bitch face as Denmark often called it fondly, was enough to keep his mouth shut.

He building was an ivory white, with large class revolving doors, the rails on the stairs, signs, and about everything solid had a gold lining. Two marble lions stood guard on each end of the entrance, mouths open wide baring brilliant teeth, faces pulled in a fierce snarling roar. He ignored the polite nod from the doorman, which was something he didn't often do as he preferred to show his manners around citizens, but he was too preoccupied on finding his brother with haste and getting the weight of his shoulders knowing he was here already and keeping his promise.

The lobby was spacious and beautiful, complete with marbles floors and walls, hanging crystal chandeliers, exotic plants, ancient paintings, the whole deal. Norway wasn't too impressed. He didn't care much for 'classy' things. Gold and marble was tacky in all honesty in his opinion, too showy. He preferred small, warm, wooden buildings, a burning fire, and some small paintings on the walls at a pinch, nothing screaming class. Things made of wood reminded him of his childhood, and the Viking days, small huts in the mountains in the harsh winter, cooking broth over the fire. It was cozy and safe. Not wide marble floors and clusters of people and luggage spewed everywhere.

There were a handful nations chatting carelessly in the lobby, the meeting being a few hours away. Some were checking in or entering the extravagant glass elevator along with human citizens. He wondered if there were stairs available. He hated elevators, he thought of them as unreliable. They were known to have complications.

"Norway!" He turned his head to see two familiar faces on a white couch in one of the far corners of the floor, by a fireplace that wasn't yet lit. Finland smiled fondly and waved him over.

Finland was a small happy man. He was the one in the family Norway knew the least about, he hadn't known him as long as the others, but he wasn't a stranger. He was kind, careful, and giving, so it wasn't that easy to dislike him. He was easy to get along with, a drinker, a traveler, and at times to many, a shoulder to lean on. He had a bright, clean-cut, round face, and trimmed blond hair. He took care of himself and was hygienic, which Norway enjoyed. (Denmark was known not to shave or shower, which was pretty gross at times. Norway had attacked him with a hose once when he refused to bathe when the soccer world cup was on and he was engrossed in the games.)

The man sitting next to Fin, and as a consequence of his height, towering over him, was Sweden. He was tall, broad shouldered, stoic faced, and according to most, utterly terrifying. Norway found it simple to be around him and get along with him. He wasn't awkward, just quiet most of the time. He wasn't obnoxious, like Denmark, sometimes overly cheerful, like Finland, or moody like his younger brother. He was good company.

"Hey guys." Finland said smiling, and stood up from the couch, knowing Norway well enough not to ask for a hug, while Denmark strolled over and rapped his free arm that wasn't hauling luggage lose around Fin's shoulders. Norway and Sweden locked eyes and nodded slightly, a greeting enough for the both of them. "You both look well."

"As do you." Norway replied.

"How have you been?"

"Fine." Norway said sharply, and turned to Sweden, "Where is my brother."

Finland dropped his smile in surprised and peered at Sweden. "Uh."

"We 'aven't seen him." Sweden shrugged his shoulders stiffly.

"At all?"

"At all." Sweden stated.

"He should be around." Finland said hopefully, looking between them. Denmark frowned too, thinking hard of how to remedy the situation.

"Well he's not around." Norway snapped.

They all stood in a heavy silence for a few moments until Norway turned his heel and started towards a group of nations talking. He could hear Fin ask Denmark_ 'Is he alright?' _before walking out of earshot. He walked straight up to England and stared at him until he got uncomfortable enough to stop talking to the group.

He frowned. "You alright there?"

"Have you seen my brother?"

England hesitated.

"Iceland."

"Yeah yeah, I know who he is." He waved off the nations he was chatting to and they hesitantly strolled away towards the elevator. "Why, you lose him?"

"Not exactly. We'd have to have him first to lose him." Norway sighed. "Has he showed up here?"

"If he were here at some point, I think I would have seen him." He responded.

"Maybe you missed him. That sometimes happens."

"I've been here, by the door. All morning. So I doubt it."

Norway shrugged. "Maybe you did a shit job."

"Boo. Go find your lost toddler elsewhere. And if you see him, tell him the fish package prank wasn't fucking funny. My postbox still reeks and it was _months ago_."

"Fish package?" Norway snorts. "He's truly outdone himself."

"Yes, a bundle of laughs."

" Thanks for the help, or lack of. Take care."

"Yeah, whatever." England turned to welcome the new arrivals at the door, Norway impatiently walked across the lobby.

Once he stops at the large reception desk, he waits momentarily for an employee, and after several seconds, he starts hitting the desk bell harder than necessary. A flustered woman in hotel uniform ran to the desk, apologizing profusely.

"Sorry. I was on break." She laughed despite the tension in his blank stare. It didn't work.

"Mhm." He muttered.

"Can I help you?"

"That's what I'm hoping. I can't find someone. And I don't know if he's checked in to his room yet. It'll be reserved in advance under Emil Steilsson."

"I'm afraid I can't do that Sir." She smiles sweetly.

He paused and stared. She shifted her feet nervously.

"You see, there are legal reasons in the hotel here that just anyone can't ask if-"

"I'm not just anyone I'm _his brother_."

"We have legal obligations."

"It'll only take two seconds, just type his name into your computer thing and it'll make my life a whole lot easier."

"But I can't" She murmured hopelessly. "Sir I'm going to have to refuse."

"Isn't this your job?"

"Yes it is Sir, but-"

"Then for god's sake," he has his hands on the desk now, leaning over her, losing his patience for the first time in a long time, voice getting more agitated as she turned down his demands. "Do your job and help you customers. I need to know this information urgently don't you understand? Do you understand how stressful this is?"

"I," She stammered, avoiding his eyes. "I should call security if you don't leave, Sir."

She picked up the phone of the receiver and started dialing.

"God, If you can push in a few buttons for security why can't you check if my brother's checked in? Surely you aren't paid to stand there smiling and looking like a complete-"

"Woah!" Denmark laughed and scoops an arm around Norway's torso. "Sorry ma'am we were just leaving! Thank you for your time!" He smiled at her as he pulled Norway away from the desk.

"I wasn't done." He hissed.

"Were you going to be done when security throws you out?" Denmark let go of him when he was far enough from the desk that the woman stopped dialing and put the phone down, although looking badly shaken up, she dropped it and walked away. "You're lucky you're not in trouble. You have a good streak. Don't break it now."

"He's not here." Norway muttered, "England hasn't seen him, Sverige hasn't seen him, the stupid receptionist won't even answer."

"Stop working yourself up about it. There's an explanation for this, we just have to find it."

"I feel like I'm trying to cut my wrists with a spoon." He groaned.

"Gross." Denmark pulled out his cell, pressed speed dial, and puts it to his ear. "Nor, you get morbid when you're angry."

"Who're you calling?"

"Who do you think?"

"He won't pick up." Norway said. "He never does for us."

Norway stared at him all the while, part of him still waiting for Denmark's face to light up when Ice picks up the phone, but he doesn't. Denmark put the phone back in his pocket, "Answering machine."

"Are you fucking kidding me." Norway was fuming at this point. He was fucked off. Iceland wasn't here. Iceland didn't show up. Iceland won't pick up the goddamn phone he has on him every hour of the day. Norway pulls out his own phone and starts dialing. Denmark stares.

"I don't think he'll pick up for you either, honestly."

"I'm not calling him." Norway snaps and turns away. "Hello? Yes. When are your next leaving flights for Iceland?"

Denmark gapes. "So what, you're missing the meeting too?"

"Yes, thank you. I will. You too. Bye." He hangs up and starts towards where Sweden and Finland were left sitting with their luggage.

"Stop! _Slow down,_ Nor." He walks in front of Norway's path.

"Move, you oaf." He tries shoving him and stepping out, but Denmark holds out his long arms blocking him. "I said _move_."

"What are you even doing?"

"I'm getting on a plane and going to Iceland."

"Yeah, obviously." He lowers his arms and runs a hand along his face. "Why? To do what? Yell at him until he locks you out?"

"Yes, and he won't lock me out."

"He did last time you tried to come over to lecture him."

"I got a spare key made."

"That's creepy." Denmark cringes.

"I don't care." Norway takes his change and dodges past him. The Dane just sighs and follows behind, "I'm pissed, He gave his word. He didn't show up. I'm going to give him an earful."

They get over to Sweden and Finland, Norway starts organizing his luggage, mentally planning what to do next. They all peered at him wordlessly.

"So." Finland spoke first. "What's going on?"

"We are taking a plane to Iceland." Denmark responded.

"_We_?" Norway stops. "There's no _we._ It me, _alone_. You stay here."

"I'm coming." Said Denmark, dead certain. "You're not leaving me here. I'm in. I want to know what's going on just as much as you do."

Norway bit the inside of his cheek, leaning down to grab his suitcase. "I'm not going to get out of this country without you on my tail, am I?"

"Nope." He smiled.

"Hurry up."

"You two coming?" Asks Denmark.

"No." Norway answers before words can come out of Fin's open mouth. "This isn't a holiday."

"Norway." Both Finland and Denmark moan simultaneously.

"No."

"'e's our brother too." Sweden mumbles. Finland stops and nods enthusiastically.

"Please?" Finland pleaded

Norway started walking away, but turned his head momentarily and said, "I'm not buying your tickets."

The three stop and watch him walk through the revolving doors and out into the bustling street.

"Uh." Finland turned to Denmark. "Is that a_ yes_ in Norway speak?"

Denmark thought for a second.

"Yup, I'd suppose so." He picked up his bags too, "If there were one, of course."

Finland's face lit up as he smiled. "I haven't been to Iceland in such a long time."

"Well great! Now you get to watch Nor scream at Ice while you enjoy the nostalgia."

"Oh. I hope He isn't too mean to Ice."

"He will be." Said Denmark, both Fin and Sverige following close behind.

The reception lady at the airport was surprised to see the familiar faces booking tickets to another country after seeing them arriving only some hours before.

Norway was fed up with flying by now, and spend the three hour flight seething. He wanted to punch the flight attendant during her safety speech, Denmark watching him and waiting to hold him back.

Denmark's stomach lurched pretty badly during takeoff, probably the fact he hadn't eaten in hours and always was in constant motion from one place to another. He managed to sleep the nausea off while snoring noisily in his seat. Sweden read a novel though the journey, occasionally listening to Finland chatter on about whatever was going though his mind.

"What're you thinking about Norway?" Finland lent past Denmark's unconscious form.

"How I'm going to tell off my brother." He responded calmly.

"Ah." He nodded, "I'm sure there's an explanation for this."

"Of course there will be, he's got an extensive list of excuses."

"Maybe something's wrong." Finland offered

"There isn't." Norway crossed his arms, looking bored, but there was a large part of him worrying that there was something wrong, an accident on the ride over to the airport, maybe. He could of gotten picked up by someone dodgy, Iceland after all was a handsome boy, somewhere perfectly between masculine and feminine, with a significant build, but still a childish look about him. In all probability he could be a victim to some creep who was strong enough to overpower him into kidnapping. "Don't say things like that. He's fine."

Finland hummed thoughtfully.

"It's good to see you again, Norway."

"Likewise," Norway nodded, with hours of silence over the ocean ahead of them.

* * *

A/N: woo this probably has a buttload of errors but I'm too lazy right now, sorry ! also my grammar is bad forgive me

this is going to be a multi-chapter fic thats nordic centric. it may not stick to one story line and go off in lots of directions. It's my first fic in a loooong time so I'll try and have fun with it, I hope you guys like how it turns out! comments and stuff are welcome, thanks for reading ! uwu


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